


The Past is in the Past

by thelinksthatconnectus (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Canon Disabled Character, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam and Bucky chill with The Avengers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:18:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thelinksthatconnectus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has his wings back and a new apartment. Bucky has some of his memories and a list of movies that he needs to catch up on. Together, they have each other.</p><p>A series of drabbles surrounding the domestic lives of the former winter soldier and the man who took to the sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cold in My Bones

Sam's new apartment was anything but cold. From the soft carpeted floor, the one that both men could pad through without making a single sound, to the blankets liberally placed throughout the home (Sam had said that his grandmother was a fast knitter, but Bucky had not realized how much until they left her home with a stack of blankets, sweaters, scarves, beanie hats, and mittens to last a lifetime), the place seemed cozy. In the short amount of time since Sam had returned to the states and gotten himself a brand new apartment, he had turned it into home.

Home - what a strange word. Still, it was hard to call anywhere else that word. Even Steve's apartment felt alien to him. Though Steve would gladly have him over any time, he would make Bucky sleep on the couch.

Walking into the living room, he stepped over to where the thermometer was placed on the wall. It was electronic, a far cry from the red mercury filled gadget of his days. The electric blue buttons read that the place was seventy-seven degrees Fahrenheit. For a moment, his fingers hovered over the buttons before ultimately pushing them up.

Maybe there was a reason that they had called him The Winter Soldier. Not just because they did not want to give him a name, but because without even touching him they knew that he was cold.

No, no, they made him cold. They took the heat from his body and the memories from his mind and the happiness from his heart. Took everything that made him Bucky and turned him into a soldier.

Nothing but a soldier.

For a moment, all Bucky could do was stare at the thermometer in front of him. His legs had turned to jelly and both of his arms - one flesh and one metal - hung limp at his side.

After some amount of time (minutes or hours?) they began to move again, his body shivering as if though Bucky were covered in snow.

"Bucky?"

Somehow, Bucky found the strength to turn. His eyes locked on Sam's own, and he managed to straighten his back.

"Bucky, what's wrong?" Sam's eyes widened, taking all of him in.

For a moment, Bucky expected him to add another question or to make a comment on something. However, he simply remained standing a few feet from him, his eyes wide and filled with concern.

"I was cold."

Sam smiled. "Then I'll just have to help get you warmed up."

Bucky stepped forward, letting Sam place his hand on his back. Sam had done it a million times before, and easily found just the right spot with his warm hands.

"Need me to make you some soup?"

"Maybe later." Bucky looked down to the ground. "Thank you."

"Oh, it's nothing." Sam leaned in closer, letting their sides brush. "I trust that you would do the same for me."


	2. The Life of the Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's The Avengers' Game Night, and tonight they're playing spin the bottle.
> 
> Just a silly little story that I wanted to make to counter out the angst in future chapters.

If anyone asked why Sam had refused free room and board at The Avengers Tower, then he would simply invite them to one of The Avengers game nights. In between teaching a Norse deity the rules of a Monopoly (and yes, Thor, the rules are the same in the regular one and The Simpsons edition), losing (again) to Natasha at poker, or yelling at Steve for cheating at Apples to Apples, he was playing kiddie games. Sam Wilson would not call himself an old man, but he was quite sure that spin the bottle was supposed to be something left in the past.

Then a again, there was no way to reason with anyone there, save Steve and Bucky. Sam moved in closer to him.

Bucky looked over to him. His eyes were sharp, and like Steve the alcohol seemed to not effect him. For a moment, their fingers touched - metal to flesh - and Sam's heart raced.

Okay, maybe this game wouldn't be so bad if the bottle landed on someone next to him.

Sam's eyes searched across the room. Most everyone looked drunk. Natasha had a too big smile, the kind that she would only plaster on when she's drunk, as mission was too good to be true, or she had to fake it before she could make it. It had to be the first - Sam wouldn't want it to be any other reason.

Clint was signing something, but he was turned to Bruce so Sam could not see what his hands were communicating. He was smiling too, though.

Everyone was smiling together.

Well, that was a first.

Thor looked around. "Who shalt continue this game?" His arm was wrapped Jane Foster's waist, and her head was against his chest. Though he had sat down among his friends, he had refused to play.

"Barnes hasn't gone yet." Natasha's smile widened. "Neither has Sam." Her eyes locked on Sam's for a moment, and his shoulders hardened.

"I'll go," Bucky suddenly said. He rolled his eyes. "This is ridiculous, but I'll go."

"You know what they say, Buck." Steve smirked. "Heroes have to make sacrifices."

Sam bit his lip. What were the chances of it landing on him?

One hundred percent, it seemed, as Bucky merely moved the empty vodka bottle a few inches until it directly pointed to Sam.

He smirked. "It's your lucky day, Falcon."

He expected someone to make a comment or object, but everyone was silent. Sam could feel their eyes on him, waiting for him to go on.

Ah man, he thought. I wanted to do this tonight, so I might as well.

Sam had only drank Gatorade that night, so he was a bit startled by the taste of scotch on Bucky's lips. Soon enough, however, the taste was gone and so was everyone else. All that existed was him and Bucky, their bodies pressed together and hearts beating in tune.

Okay, maybe he was thinking a bit too seriously for a game of spin the bottle. Still, he had been able to drown out the others for a while and get a little action. That at least made the night a little enjoyable.

The two pulled away, both grinning.

"Someone else spin," Sam said, his eyes still on Bucky.

Nick was the one to spin, though Sam never saw who he landed on. His thoughts were on getting home and the man beside him, and the thoughts weren't mutually exclusive. Another great thing about his new apartment, even if he did have to pay for it himself, was the privacy.


End file.
